62. Chapter 54
Lorenzo
For once, I let Dash take the lead.
Giovanni is heavy and barely conscious between us, his ruined arms hanging uselessly as we half-carry, half-drag him out of the club.
Firefighters find us as we near the entrance, taking Giovanni from us, shouting orders that I can barely hear. They’re leading us the rest of the way from the flames.
Then, we’re out in the night, stumbling through the parking lot, which is shockingly cold after the inferno we just left behind.
Red and blue light is everywhere. Firetrucks. Ambulances. A crowd held back by tape. Uniformed bodies. Faces covered in fear and soot.
Paramedics rush for us.
I try to find Dash.
He’s standing, barely, just a few feet from me, leaning on a paramedic. His shirt is torn, burned, blackened. Red, angry burns cover his hands and forearms. His face is streaked with soot, his eyes are red, his hair wild.
Our eyes meet, and I don’t recognize what I see in his gaze.
“Dash,” I whisper, reaching for him.
He just shakes his head, retreating from me. “No,” he says in a raw voice. “No.”
Then his eyes roll back in his head and he collapses.